Just Living Up to Expectations
by WhiteFerrets
Summary: Draco always did what his parents expected of him. As he looked down at his sleeping wife, thought of his son and his friends, he couldn't bring himself to regret his past. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I own 'David the Muggle' ... everything else, JKRowling owns.**

**A/N: I love Draco to pieces, so here's a oneshot showing his side of the story (:**

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Draco felt like a sort of puppet, always living up to the expectations of his parents. He never did anything of his own accord, only doing what they wanted him to. He never rebelled, never said no. He wished he had.

They expected him to hate all Muggles and Muggleborns. So when he befriended David the Muggle at the park one day when he was six, he never returned to that park again. He never saw David afterwards.

They expected him to have manners, but know who deserved them and who didn't. So when a homeless person begged him for change, he stuck his nose in the air and walked past the man without making acknowledgement of him.

They expected him to offer Harry Potter his friendship before the end of the school year. He did, earlier than his father's deadline, and even though the Potter kid declined, he still felt accomplished.

They expected him to be cruel to Potter after that, after he'd owled them about Potter's rejection. So he lay awake most of the night, thinking up insults for Potter and his friends, chuckling to himself as he imagined using them.

They expected him to be top of the class, and although he couldn't quite achieve that, what with Granger getting in the way, he was still Second, and the smartest Slytherin by far. So, despite his parents' disappointment, he felt quite pleased with himself.

They expected him to get onto the Slytherin Quidditch Team. So, day and night during the summer, Draco rode around the house and in the garden on his broom, practising hard. And when he started his Second Year, he went to the Quidditch Tryouts. It didn't matter that he was the smallest or the youngest there. He was easily one of the most talented and had the best broom. With a little bribery, he soared onto the team.

They expected him to feed information to them from Hogwarts, so he sent weekly letters with updates on the Chamber of Secrets fiasco. They replied, often with a box of sweets as a reward, and demanded more information. He gave them it.

They expected him to degrade his teachers and peers. So he insulted Hagrid as much as he could, questioned Lupin's grubby clothing as much as possible, made fun of Trelawney every chance he got. He mocked Granger, Longbottom, Lovegood; and the rest. He teased the Weasleys, and anyone as unfortunate as them.

They expected him to become a Death Eater, and he did so, early. He regretted it instantly, as he looked into the Dark Lord's red pupils while he mercilessly burned the Dark Mark into Draco's skin. Months later, deprived of sleep and sanity, he still regretted it. Years later, he still wished he hadn't followed his parents orders.

But they expected him not to complain, and so he didn't, suffering silently.

They expected him to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. He knew what they were planning on doing, and he didn't want them to, but still, he did as they demanded. After months of research and sleepless nights, the Vanishing Cabinet was fixed.

They expected him to kill Dumbledore. He didn't put much thought into it, decided that what had to be done would be done, but as he stood there on the top of the Astronomy tower, he knew he couldn't. Shaking and crying, he pointed his wand feebly at Dumbledore, as the man tried to talk him out of doing it. The words, regrettably, were on the tip of his tongue, but before he had the chance, Snape was there and Dumbledore was dead.

They expected him to re-do his Seventh Year after Voldemort's downfall, and so he did, managing to scrape seven N.E.W.T's by the end of it.

They expected him to get a job with a steady income. Although it was difficult as everyone knew the Malfoys were Death Eaters, he managed to find work at a bookshop, where he ran into Granger again.

They expected him to keep the job, no matter what it took, and so he stopped bickering with Granger, instead seeing her as an equal. Although his parents weren't pleased about this, they were pleased that he was living up to their expectations.

They expected him to get married to a Pureblood. Although the Greengrass family wasn't high up on the popularity scale (well, neither were the Malfoys), they were Pureblood, and so Draco settled in marrying Astoria as soon as she had left school. He was almost twenty-one and she was eighteen. He didn't feel much for her at that point, but he knew he could grow to love her.

They expected him to produce an heir, and that he did. Years after their marriage, Draco and Astoria produced a baby boy, whom they named Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Draco loved the baby instantly, and his love for Astoria only grew stronger.

They expected him to play a decent father, which he did willingly, though their idea of a decent father varies from Draco's, and there was a certain amount of disagreement on this. However, after Draco made them see sense, they gave in.

Draco always did what was expected of him, and as he lay next to his sleeping wife a month after they sent Scorpius to Hogwarts, looking down at his Dark Mark, faded but still there, he wished he had led a different life. Not entirely different – he still wanted Astoria and Scorpius and the bookshop and the N.E.W.T's, but there were so many points in his life that he was ashamed of. He wondered what he would be like if he continued seeing David the Muggle, if he had been kind to Potter and his friends, if he hadn't bribed everyone to get his way, if he saw everyone as an equal. He desperately imagined the life he would lead if he hadn't had the Dark Lord's symbol burnt into his skin, if he hadn't carried out the tasks they had set him.

Draco regretted the life he led as a kid, but nothing could erase the pride as he looked down at his sleeping wife, who rested her head on his shoulder and an arm over his middle; and as he thought of the son that would now be sleeping in the Ravenclaw dormitory; or even as the bookshop flew into his mind, and the growing friendship with Granger – or Hermione, as he should rightfully call her.

As his Aunt Andy always said, he needed to put the past behind him and focus on the present and the future, because that's all that really matters. The past was the past. He was a grown man now, and for once, he lived his own life, not what his parents expected of him. But still, he wouldn't be here now if it hadn't of been for the expectations.

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**A/N: I like this one. I didn't expect (ha, bet you're bored of that word now xD) for it to turn out like this, but I like it.**

_**Reviews are appreciated!**_


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